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I clear customs at JFK,and take a cab into the city, straight to Nero’s club downtown. It’s always been a regular Barretti haunt, a place for our crew to unwinds and do business, but I’m surprised to find, I don’t recognize a single person in the place when I walk in. It’s all trendy hipsters and craft cocktails, and when I make my way to the bar, the guy there just gives me a blank look.
“What’ll it be?” he asks, sporting a pinstripe vest and an old-time moustache that Nero would have cut straight from his face with a penknife, if he ever saw it.
“I’m looking for Nero,” I reply, glancing around.
The guy frowns. “Nero who?’
Is he kidding me?
“She means Barretti,” the other bartender leans over. “Sorry, kid’s new.”
“Everything looks new,” I remark, looking around the room. “Do you know where I can find him?”
The man shrugs. “Sorry, he doesn’t come around here often. Maybe try his offices?”
Right. I realize too late that Nero must have moved his business operations to his fancy new construction project downtown. No more back room mafia deals. The man’s gone legit.
“Thanks,” I mutter, and head out, past a group of coeds cooing about how ‘gritty’ and ‘authentic’ the ‘vibes’ are here.
I wince. If they only knew what had gone on in these back rooms…
And those aren’t the only changes. As I stroll the ten blocks to Nero’s new digs, I can’t help feeling like I’ve been away from the city for ten years, not just a few months. Everything feels different—or maybe I do. The brisk pace of pedestrians on the sidewalks, the noise and hustle of traffic in the streets…
You’ve been acting like a pampered princess too long, I scold myself, walking faster. This is what months in Sebastian’s luxurious world has done for my street smarts: made me softer. Weak.
Well, there’ll be no more of his lavish gifts now.
No more nights crying out in pleasure, begging for Sebastian’s domination and release…
I find Nero’s building shiny and buzzing with activity, like any other corporate tower in New York. His offices are on the top floor, with sweeping views of the city, and I find him still in some kind of meeting, gathered around a conference table with smart looking people in suits poring over spreadsheets.
He paces, commanding the room, just as much a leader as I’ve always known him, but this time, outfitted in a designer suit.
The mafia boss turned businessman.
Nero turns and sees me through the glass, and lights up. He gestures for me to join him, dismissing everyone else with just a few words.
“Avery!” he strides over, pulling me into a hug. “Shit, look at you! When did you get back?”
“Just now,” I reply. “And technically, it’s Amelie,” I tell him. “Avery Carmichael is still missing, presumed dead.”
“I know what that’s like,” Nero says with a knowing grin. “You OK?” He steps back and takes a long look at me, as if he’s trying to assess for injuries.
“Yes. No. I don’t know,” I admit with a sigh. Seeing my old friend like this is opening the floodgates, and I don’t know how much longer my resolve will hold.
Nero sees it and gives my shoulder a squeeze. “Let’s go. I know Lily will want to see you. We’ll order in, make a night of it. You can bring us up to speed on your adventures,” he adds, and I give a hollow laugh.
“How much time do you have?”
“How about three extra-large pepperonis from Gino’s?” Nero shoots back. “Will that be enough time?”
“Not even close.”
We pick up those pizzas,and head back to his place, where Lily is just as happy and relieved to see me. We settle in with drinks and the food, and I fill them in on my time in Europe over the last few months. No holds barred.
When I’m done, Lily takes my hand and squeezes it sympathetically. “Oh, Avery…”
“It’s stupid, I know,” I say, trying not to crumble. I stare down at the greasy slice in my hand. “I mean, what kind of future could we have really had together? After all the anger, and lies, and revenge… That’s not exactly the foundation for a beautiful love affair, is it?”
